Live Them Together
by didyouhaveagoodtime
Summary: When Matthew proposed on that blessed winter night, he'd said that it was time to live their lives together. It had been hard, sometimes, but they had always had each other, and they had kept that promise whispered in the dead of night, to never take them for granted. It was, as Matthew called it, their "great adventure", and they were living it to the fullest [Season 5 rewrite].
1. Of Libraries and Change

I've always had a very clear idea of where the relationship between Mary and Matthew could go, over the years, and I've always wanted to explore that as much as I wanted to "fix" the canon story. Over the months, I've come to look at the current show, especially at this season, as one of the possible AUs of the story that began when the heir of the Grantham estate died on the Titanic, and this is my own version of that.

Being it a **S5 rewrite**, this story relies heavily on canon, reusing a lot of lines from the actual show, so if that puts you off stop reading right there.

**If you have not watched S5**, there comes a warning for you: **this story is stuffed with spoilers**, so if you choose to keep reading, be very, _very_ aware of that.

That said, the fic also changes quite a lot, because, and I've come to realise that while writing it, it's not just about taking all Mary's scenes and throw Matthew in them. It is also that, but Matthew's presence of course changes some dynamics, as the character has many ties within the family, and he, like Mary, is strongly involved in different storylines.

I'm leaving some mystery at the moment about what happened in the equivalent of S4 of this AU, but all will be revealed in due time ;)

This chapter and this story are my heartfelt contribution for the **Mary&Matthew Tribute Day**, which we are celebrating today (mmm, yesterday?) on Tumblr, because… why not, right?

Many thanks to **Darkblueyank** and **Orangeshipper**, who have both given some precious time to this chapter and made it infinitely better with their suggestions.

**Disclaimer:** _Downton Abbey_ does not belong to me, but, you know, it's so fun to play with its characters!

Enjoy :)

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><p>.<p>

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**Of Libraries and Change {Episode one, part one}**

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**Downton Abbey, February 1924**

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"Look at this. A man in misery!" the Earl lamented frowning at his newspaper.

"Who's in misery?" Tom asked, just then coming into the library.

He approached the small table filled with refreshments and served himself tea.

"The King, according to Robert," Matthew informed him, standing by the table himself.

Tom cracked a smile, sharing a look with him and then with Mary who was sitting opposite her father on one the large sofas in front of the fireplace.

"Why do you think that?" Rose asked curiously.

"He has to deal with a Labour government, why do you think?"

"Mmm, he doesn't look miserable to me," she commented, peeking at the newspaper. "He looks just like himself, I think."

"What's your objection to Mr. MacDonald, anyway? That the Prime Minister is the son of a crofter?" Mary asked as she rose to refill her cup.

Carson served her tea and Mary smiled at him in thanks before turning to look at her father.

"I couldn't care less if he was the son of Fu Manchu," the Earl said with a huff. "What worries me is that our government is committed to the destruction of people like us and everything we stand for."

"Honestly, Robert. It seems a bit unfair to think that already," Matthew said rolling his eyes.

"I agree," Mary said, returning to her place on the sofa. "Let's wait and see what happens before we panic."

"Here, read for yourself if you don't believe me," Robert said walking to Matthew and passing him the newspaper. "Tell me I am wrong to 'panic', as my daughter so eloquently put it."

Mary and Matthew exchanged a look, then Matthew went to sit down and started reading.

Mary's eyes followed her father as he moved in front of the wide French windows of the library, his gaze fixed outside.

"Where is Edith, anyway?" Rose asked.

"She said she had some old lady to visit in the village," Cora answered.

"She's always in the village these days. Is that in aid of something in particular?"

"I'm not sure that it is. You know Edith, she's always so mysterious these days."

"Edith seems to have quite a lot of secrets for such a tedious person," Mary said rolling her eyes.

She sensed more than saw her mother's scold, but she ignored her as her eyes shot to Matthew who was shaking his head in amused reprimand.

She smiled, raising her eyebrow, and took a sip of her tea.

"What about you, Rose, dear? Is everything settled at the school?" Cora enquired.

"What's this?" Mary asked.

"Oh, they swore in Mr. Adams' replacement on the school board. They were afraid things wouldn't go smoothly seeing as he was pushing for his protégé and the majority of the board couldn't stand the man. That's why they asked a member of the family to take part in the meeting."

"I thought they might have asked me," Robert said quietly from his spot without turning around.

Mary saw her father share a look with Carson, as the butler stood tall, but silent, his chin held a little higher at the Earl's words.

"What happened then?" Tom asked curiously.

"As it turns out, Mr. Adams' protégé had a better offer. He's leaving for Manchester at the end of the month."

Matthew looked up from the newspaper at the mention of his hometown, seemingly about to say something, but then he changed his mind and went back to reading.

Mary frowned, but didn't say anything.

"I feel guilty about the school. I ought to support it more," Tom said after a pause. "They do a very important job for the village and I'd like to do my part."

"Well, you could come with me later today. I'm giving away the prizes for their award ceremony this year," Rose offered.

"Oh? Well, I think I will."

"Barrow, can we clear the tea?" Cora said suddenly to the footman who had been standing soundless on the outskirts of their afternoon meal for the whole time.

Both he and Carson moved to clear the table.

"Aren't we waiting for Edith?" Matthew asked, finally folding the newspaper and putting it away.

"It's late, and Edith's missed it. Besides, Nanny will be down shortly with the children."

At the news both Matthew and Tom seemed to lit up, and Mary smiled at the endearing sight.

Robert, however, took it as his clue to leave.

"I'd better run then," he said.

"Oh, stay a little and see them," Cora pleaded. "They are so eager to see you!"

"Just as soon as they're able to answer back," the Earl said, which only prompted the Countess to shake her head.

"Sybbie _can_ answer back," Rose pointed out.

"Just not the answer I'd like to hear. Tom, why does she call me Donk again?"

Tom chuckled, and gave his empty cup to Thomas who had come to retrieve it.

"That game you played a couple of weeks ago, pinning the tail on the donkey? I'm afraid it stuck."

Mary smiled at the memory, recalling that rather unusual afternoon in which Nanny had been taken ill.

When she, Matthew and Tom had come back from their visit to the pigpen, they'd found Robert spread on the library rug with Sybbie and George on top of him, the three of them laughing and giggling together.

"But can't I be 'Grandpapa' or something a bit more dignified?" the Earl almost whined, his hands behind his back.

Mary raised her eyebrows in amusement.

"I'm afraid it's Donk for the moment, but I have to say I find it rather sweet."

Robert sighed and turned to leave, but just as he did, there they were, the Downton children, both of them holding their favourite toy, escorted by Nanny and another elderly maid.

"Well, I don't want George to catch it," Robert said as he moved to walk out of the library, but not before having waved warmly at the children, leaning over Sybbie to give her a squeeze.

"Bye-bye, darlings," he said, ruffling George's hair, who beamed up at him, but kept on walking.

"Goodbye, Donk," Sybbie said to everyone's amusement and Robert raised his arms in defeat before walking away.

"George, come and sit here, darling," Mary called, patting the space beside her on the couch.

The boy ran toward her with a glowing smile and climbed on the sofa.

"Have you enjoyed your afternoon nap?" Matthew asked, coming closer and crouching in front of him.

George nodded.

"Very well, then. Would you like to go outside for a walk?" he asked.

And George's face lit up as he gazed quickly at Sybbie before focusing on his father again.

"Can we play hide and seek?" he asked raising his eyebrows in excitement.

"I don't see why not," Matthew said. "What do you think, Uncle Tom? Would you and Sybbie like to play too?"

Tom seemed to ponder on that for a while and then looked conspiratorially down at his daughter.

"Only if you are prepared to lose, Uncle Matthew. We are the best team after all."

Sybbie giggled, nodding in agreement at her cousin and uncle.

"You usually are, but not always," Matthew said, standing. "We will give you a run for your money, won't we, George?"

"Yes!" George exclaimed, jumping off the sofa. He looked up at Mary. "Mama is coming too?" he asked.

Mary put on a pensive expression and then shrugged.

"The teams are already formed," she said, pretending to be sad. "I'm afraid there is no place for me."

"Oh, it's alright, Mama. You can be on my team," George offered, and Mary smiled, leaning down to ruffle his hair affectionately.

"Then I'll come, but I will watch you from the bench, if that's alright?"

"Alright," George said with a big smile and he took her proffered hand.

She finally stood and they said their goodbyes to the rest of the family.

She looked up and met Matthew's eyes, and the look on his face made her heart swell with quiet pride.

She grinned at him and together they walked out of the library.

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><p>.<p>

When Matthew knocked on their bedroom door a few hours later, Anna was just about to leave.

Mary rose from her dressing table, looking one last time at her reflection in the mirror to check that everything was as perfect as she wanted it, then moved to the door that Matthew had kept open for her.

"Did you enjoy your bath?" she asked.

"Very much," he said as they walked down the hallway, "although some company would have made it even more enjoyable," he added in a quite suggestive tone.

Mary looked at him and her lips twitched at one side.

"I thought you told Moseley you could take care of yourself in such an intimate task?" she said with a mock frown of confusion.

Matthew stared at her for only a moment before chuckling and shaking his head.

"You know it's not my valet I was talking about," he said as they drew near the end of the hallway.

Suddenly Matthew put out his arm and stopped her, moving around her quickly, one of his hands resting on her hip.

Mary let out a little gasp at the smooth move, but then looked up at him with an amused smile, her hands moving over his forearms.

"We didn't have time for that and you needed a proper rub after the afternoon with the children and Tom," she explained with a little shrug.

"Mmm, as you so expressively put it, I smelled like one of our pigs," Matthew nodded, leaning in and pressing his lips to the exposed skin of her shoulder.

Mary turned her head just slightly, her fingers grasping the soft material of his evening suit as his mouth moved to her neck.

Her eyes fell shut and her hand went to his back, arching a little closer.

A door shut closed somewhere upstairs and they reluctantly moved apart.

They smiled to each other, Mary's hand sliding down his arm and linking briefly with his fingers before letting go.

"Well, darling, it shouldn't bother you so much, you know how fond I am of my pigs," she said

with a little wiggle of her eyebrows.

Matthew laughed, shaking his head and Mary grinned.

"Don't think I'll forget this so easily," Matthew said as they finally made it down the stairs and reached the drawing room.

"The bath or the comparison to our pigs?"

"Both."

Mary shrugged, nonchalantly.

"I didn't expect you would, but it is alright. I fully plan on making it up to you before the night is over," she said in a low voice, just as Thomas opened the door to let then enter to room.

She went in and Matthew gaped after her, but then he shook his head again and chuckled fondly, smoothing down the jacket of his evening suit before joining the rest of the family.

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><p>.<p>

Robert was talking about a delegation from the village that was to come tomorrow when Matthew came into the drawing room.

"They want to erect some kind of memorial to the war," his father-in-law was saying, and Matthew's eyebrows rose up.

"What?" he asked, causing everyone to turn and look at him.

"It's a memorial to the local men who fought and died in it, more precisely. They'll be all over the country it seems. I suppose they want to have a piece of the land to build it on and ask me to be the committee chairman."

Matthew nodded. That made sense. Later this year they would be marking the ten years since the beginning of war.

It was strange to think about all that had happened since then, and instinctively his eyes sought out Mary.

As if knowing what was going on in his mind, she'd come closer, and here she was, standing right beside him.

Before either of them could speak, however, Cora came into the room. Apparently the phone had rung before he and Mary came down.

"Who was it?" asked Edith.

"Tony Gillingham," Cora answered and suddenly every thought of the war memorial left Matthew's mind. "He has some business up here next week," the Countess continued, "and asked if he could stay at Downton while he's here."

Matthew rolled his eyes in annoyance, but said nothing as he could feel Mary's gaze on him.

"What day does he want to come?" Robert inquired.

"Well, that's the problem," Cora said. "He wants to come on the 16th."

"And?"

Cora gave him an exasperated look. "It's our anniversary," she explained.

"Oh, oh, yes, of course," the Earl said trying to look remorseful. "But that doesn't matter. Ring him back and say yes! I'd like to see him, it's been such a long time!"

"Not for us, it hasn't," Matthew couldn't help but say. "We met him a couple of weeks ago while we were in London."

If his tone sounded irritated, neither Robert or Cora seemed to notice, and just then Carson announced dinner was served.

The family moved to exit the room, but Mary's hand on his arm gave Matthew pause.

"You don't mind Tony coming, do you?" she asked looking him in the eye.

"I'm not thrilled, but I'll be civil with him, if that's what worries you."

"I know you will be," Mary whispered with a small smile, and he smiled back, feeling the tension he'd felt at the man's name leave him at once.

He kissed her briefly, before they followed the rest of the family into the dining room.

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><p>.<p>

"Darling, would it upset you terribly if I didn't come with you to the Cunards tomorrow?"

Mary shrugged from where she was sitting on their bed.

"Not particularly, but it will make it hard to have some intelligent conversation during tea. Why, has something come up?"

"Indeed," Matthew answered as he shoved off his dressing gown and sat on the bed. He pulled the covers over himself and turned to look at her. "Your Papa asked me to attend the meeting for the war memorial tomorrow morning."

"Oh?"

"Yes, he thinks… He's glad that the people of the village would ask him, but he feels as if… well, as if he shouldn't be at the front but at the back, so to speak."

Robert had not been very eloquent after the ladies had left the room and Carson had given them cigars and brandy, but it had been easy for Matthew to understand what he was trying to say.

Mary frowned.

"But why? Papa is the Earl of this county and of course the people of Downton want him as their leader, especially for something so important."

"That's what I told him, but he thinks someone else should do it, someone who has actually fought in the war, and was hurt doing his duty."

At this Mary sat up a little straighter.

"You mean to say he's asked you to be the head of the committee," Mary said.

It wasn't a question and Matthew raised his eyes to look at her.

"It might come to nothing as we don't really know what they'll ask tomorrow, but yes, Robert thinks it should be me in case they do ask."

"Well," Mary said, then stopped, looking at him for a long moment. "How would you feel about it?"

Matthew lowered his eyes and sighed.

He took her hand in his.

"I'm not sure. I'd feel embarrassed I think, I'd feel as if I'd be stepping on Robert's toes."

"Well, you have been stepping on Papa's toes for quite some time now. You, and Tom, and I."

Matthew smiled, nodding his head as his fingers squeezing hers.

"I suppose that's true."

"But in a way, it would make sense," Mary continued. "You did fight in the war and you are the heir. You will be the head of this family one day, and the earl of this county."

"Things are changing, Mary. By the time I'll be Earl, maybe titles and aristocracy won't mean as much as they do now."

"In England? Are you serious, darling?"

They laughed together, and Mary could see him relax a bit.

She reached for his shoulder, caressing the silken shirt of his pajamas with her fingertips.

"We'll think about it tomorrow, Matthew," she said softly. "It's no use to let the future bother us when it's not come yet."

Matthew looked at her fondly. "You are very wise, my dear."

"Am I?"

"Absolutely."

"That's good. And do you know what your wise wife suggests at this very moment?" Mary said reaching for his face, pushing a few locks of his blonde hair back.

"What, darling?"

"That you shut up and kiss me."

He laughed and obliged.

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><p>.<p>

The committee from the village was right on time the next morning, so they sat at the table arranged for the meeting in the library as the Thomas and Carson brought in tea and refreshments.

"I hope you don't mind that I asked Mr. Crawley to join us?" Robert asked, although it sounded more like a statement than a question.

"Not at all," Mrs. Wigan, who seemed to be the spokeswoman of the small group, said. "How do you do, Mr. Crawley?"

"How do you do?" Matthew replied from his seat next to Robert.

He nodded in acknowledgement to the other villagers, and shook hands with Mr. Wilton, the grocer, whose face was badly scarred.

A shell had grazed his face in Amiens, Matthew knew, and the young man had been left deaf from one ear, which on top of having lost his left leg made the man's life quite a challenge. But he was blessed with a smart and good woman as a wife, he'd said one day at church, and so they managed.

"Please don't think us too forward," Mrs Wigan started, going to the business at hand.

"You need not to worry," Robert reassured her. "We are happy to play our part," he said looking at Matthew.

"But we don't know yet where we want the memorial to be, m'lord, and if you're to give us a piece of land, then you'd better know where it is before you agree."

"Do you have any idea where it ought be?" Matthew asked.

"We're not sure, Mr. Crawley. We are only a small part of it, but the memorial committee is rather large, and we have decided we need someone to lead us, so that a choice can be made when not all parts agree."

Matthew nodded, glancing at Robert, whose attention was on Mrs. Wigan.

"So that is why you're here, to find a Chairman to your Committee and ask for a piece of land for this… memorial to be built on?"

"Precisely," Mrs. Wigan said, clearly happy to having found the Earl so open.

Robert nodded, and motioned to Carson to start serving tea.

"Well, we can discuss the location later," Robert said, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline your offer of being head of this committee-"

"Oh, no, m'lord, you did not understand us," Mrs. Wigan interrupted suddenly.

"Oh?"

"I'm sorry, but we didn't come to offer the position of Chairman of our Committee to you."

"But then-"

"We'd like for… well, for Mr. Carson to have the position," the woman said looking at the old butler.

Matthew's eyes widened in surprise, as did Robert's, but the person most effected by Mrs. Wigan's words was the butler himself, whose eyes had grown as big as saucers.

Matthew leaned against the back of his chair, warming up to the idea rather quickly.

"But surely, His Lordship-" Mr. Carson tried.

"No, Carson, they want you to be the Chairman," Robert said, the disappointment evident in his voice.

"I think it's a splendid idea," Matthew said and when Robert turned to him he smiled encouragingly at the older man, who smiled back and nodded, looking back at Carson.

"My Lordship-"

"No, Mr. Crawley is right. It's a good idea."

"It's not that we don't want you to be involved, m'lord," Mrs Wigan said leaning slightly over the table. "Or you Mr. Crawley," she added looking at Matthew. "In fact, we think it would be good for the spirit of the whole thing if the family took part in the process. I believe you were in the Army, Mr. Crawley?"

"I was. I was a Captain to the XI Manchester regiment."

"Then we thank you for your effort. We would like for you and the family to be a part of it, but we think that Mr. Carson knew more of the young men of the village that died during the war, or he knew them better anyway. He is a considerable figure in the village, and he can work on the committee while at the same time act as a link between the village and the family." She looked at Carson then, who was standing still, quite dumbfounded, at the end of the table, holding a cup in his hands. "Oh, tea for me, Mr. Carson, thank you," Mrs. Wigan said cheerfully.

The butler looked startled for a moment, then seemed to remember what he had been doing and turned to continue his task.

Matthew cracked a smile at Carson's flustered expression and at Mrs. Wigan's assertiveness, the morning having taken a quite interesting albeit unexpected turn.

"So, what do you say, Carson?" Robert asked after a moment and Matthew was glad to notice that not a hint of disappointment was now in his voice.

"I am honoured by the invitation, my lord," Carson replied slowly, turning slightly toward them as he finished filling a new cup. "But I shall have to think about it," he added with an almost imperceptible quirk of his eyebrows at Mr. Wigan.

Everyone around the table nodded.

"Of course you will, but please don't take too long," Mrs. Wigan said and Matthew hid his smile behind his hand at the butler's very noticeable huff.

"Can you put the milk in first, if that's for me?" Mrs. Wigan continued with the most delighted expression on her face and Matthew had to stop himself from laughing out loud.

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><p>.<p>

When she came back from her visit, Mary found Matthew in the nursery.

He and the children were sitting on the floor, a string of toys around Matthew's knees. He held two of them in his hands, included Sybbie's stuffed rabbit, and apparently he was telling a story using the toys as characters.

Both children giggled and clapped their hands at the funny voices he made.

"What did the old woman say?" Sybbie asked with wide eyes, but at that point Matthew had turned and noticed Mary standing by the door.

"Mama!" George exclaimed.

"Good morning, darlings," Mary said with a wide smile as she entered the room.

She crouched down beside her son, silently pointing a finger to her own cheek. George giggled and pressed a quick kiss on it with a small smack.

Mary looked at Sybbie then, raising an eyebrow and the girl shuffled closer on her knees, kissing Mary's cheek just a George had done.

Mary caressed her hair before getting up and sitting on a nearby chair.

"Please don't stop on my account," Mary said smiling to Matthew. "What were you telling?" she asked while she took care of the pins in her hair and finally took off her hat.

She massaged her nape with her fingertips, definitely glad to be home.

"It's Mr. Babbie's story!" Sybbie said, pointing the rabbit in Matthew's hand.

"Of course it is," Mary said, setting down her hat with all the pins inside. Anna would take care of it later.

"He is on a very important mission," Matthew explained with a grin, the children nodding their agreement. "He is walking in the forest looking for Miss Teepeetee."

"How adventurous," Mary said and Matthew rolled his eyes, but his lips were curved into an amused smile.

"Papa, go on!" George exclaimed.

"Your wish is my command, my dear," Matthew said. "Where were we, then?"

The children told him and Matthew thanked them for their help and resumed his tale.

Mary watched them for a long moment, her gaze lingering on Matthew, whose sleeves were now rolled up to his elbows, a lock of hair falling down on his forehead as he talked.

He managed to look very silly and incredibly endearing at the same time.

She smiled, settled more comfortably in her chair, and listened on as the dangerous adventures of Mr. Babbit unfolded for the little audience to enjoy.

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><p>.<p>

The rest of the day went on rather quickly.

Matthew had told her about the surprising outcome of morning the meeting after lunch, and even though he'd said that her father had taken it well, Mary knew her Papa, so when the rest of the family went to bed, she told Matthew to go up without her, that she would come in a minute.

"You're worried for him?" he'd asked, and Mary had looked at him in surprise at how easily he could read her.

"He would never admit it, but you know how change upsets him. I just want to be sure he is alright," she'd answered.

"He said to me once that he thought he hated change."

"That doesn't surprised me," she said with a small smile. "When was this?"

"A long time ago. We hadn't been here long. It was a few days after Cousin Violet asked me to make enquiries about the entail."

Mary's smile had become distant at that, but before Matthew could say anything more Mary had kissed him on his cheek and told him to go to bed.

"I'll be up soon," she'd whispered.

Mary remembered those days well, she thought as she walked to the library where her father indubitably was.

She remembered how sorrowful Matthew had seemed that night in the library all these years ago, as he'd explained that nothing would break the entail and told her, in a tone that had made her breath catch in her throat, that she mattered a great deal, a very great deal.

Mary had often wondered over the years if that had been the moment she had fallen in love with him, and then shaken her head at the question for how can you pinpoint things like that?

What was certain, though, was that Matthew had changed her life, maybe even changed her, and certainly had changed how she looked at things and at herself.

Once upon a time, she would have rolled her eyes at the notion, but there was something about loving someone the way she loved Matthew.

It had changed her.

It had made her discover things about herself that she never knew.

He had made her long for things she had never wished before.

He brought out the best of her, and it had been a frightening thought for a time, only countered by the knowledge that he loved her all, good and bad.

She smiled at this and took a deep breath as she entered the library, her mind setting on the task ahead of her.

As expected, the Earl was sitting by the fireplace, only his head visible from behind.

Change.

Looking back, her relationship with her father was one of the things that had changed the most.

Mary had always loved her Papa, of course, but she'd been deeply hurt and disappointed in him after the Titanic.

It had hurt to know that he was ready to pass her in favour of a perfect stranger, without even trying to put up a fight-that stranger had proved to be perhaps not perfect, but certainly very fitting for the role, and all had worked out in the end, but the fact remained that for a long time her father's unwillingness to do something had hurt her.

If she allowed herself to think about it, it hurt still, just a tiny bit, but she understood her father better now. She could see the way he saw things, and even when they did not agree, she could see his point, she could understand the reasons behind his sometimes childish behaviour.

It all had started when she had been there to help smooth things between her father and Matthew as her husband and Tom tried to save Downton and bring it into the modern world, but Mary had quickly taken an interest in the estate—she had even taken up reading about grain sales, for God's sake, not a thing all ladies were able to discuss these days, Tom had pointed out to her just the other day—an interest that had been watched upon with suspicion first, then embraced by the Earl, because he knew she understood the values he lived by.

On that, they had built a new phase of their relationship, one made of trust and understanding, a partnership even, and it had made her feel closer to her father than she ever had.

"Here you are," Mary said as she reached him and sat beside her father on the sofa. "They've all gone to bed. I told Matthew I would be up soon too."

"Are you here to check on your old father?"

"You are not old, Papa, and yes, I am."

He smiled at her and extended his hand on the soft cushion and she put her palm against his larger one, just as she did when she was a little girl.

How many times had he comforted her when she had been upset about the silliest things?

"It doesn't really bother you that they want Carson, does it?" she asked, her brow furrowing with worry.

Her father sighed and turned to look at the fire.

"They'd be lucky to get him," he finally said. "But even so, it makes you think. Would a village delegation have arrived in my grandfather's days to ask his _butler_ to head an appeal?"

Mary smiled kindly.

"We're not living in your grandfather's days."

"No, we're not."

"Change can a good thing, Papa," Mary said after a moment. "Some things I'm not even sure I understand about this new world, but there are possibilities too, and we can't be blind to them."

The Earl smiled at his, watching her silently and squeezing her hand before letting go.

"Matthew said something similar to me many years ago," he said with a distant look in his eyes. "It turns out, he was right. But I can't help feeling like a dinosaur sometimes, and I'm afraid there won't be a place for an ancient relic like myself some day."

"There will always be a place for you," Mary said. "We value and love you, even when we disagree. I hope you know it."

He looked at her for a moment.

"I do know it," he said slowly.

He rose and Mary stood up with him.

"Thank you, darling," he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek and Mary rubbed his shoulder tenderly.

"You're welcome," she said as she took her arm back. "Are you ready to go to bed now?"

"Indeed I am."

They linked their arms and together they went upstairs.

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* * *

><p>.<p>

"Is Robert alright then?" Matthew asked when Mary entered his dressing room a little while later.

He was sitting on the bed reading, his back against the headboard, as he waited for her.

She sat on the mattress, looking down at her lap.

"I think so," she said slowly.

Matthew put down his book and waited for her to speak again.

Mary sighed.

"He is doing his best, I think, but it doesn't always make sense to him, this modern world. He grew up in a very different one."

"That is understandable, but it's the natural course of life. We will feel the same way in twenty years time, when we'll be a little grey and our George will be a young man living in a world we might not fully understand."

Mary was silent for some time. She looked up at him then, a little frown creasing her brow.

"Doesn't it scare you?" she asked.

Matthew smiled.

"It terrifies me," he said, "but there's nothing we can do about it, except to live in the present and hope in the future."

Mary smiled back.

"I agree," she said, and they stayed like this, in silence, for a long moment, simply watching each other.

Then Mary rose, extending her hand to him.

"Well, darling, shall we go to bed now?"

Matthew grinned and took her hand.

"I thought you'd never ask," he said, and they left the room, hand in hand, leaving the bed empty and unused as it was supposed to be.

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_To Be Continued_

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><p><em>.<em>

_And that is all for Chapter One!_

_We are less than half a hour into the episode, so the second part of it will be covered by the next chapter._

_As always, do let me know what you think of this silliness. I look forward to hear your impressions :)_

_Till next time!_


	2. Of Dinner Parties and Guests I

Hello dear readers and happy beloved Easter wishes to all of you who celebrate :)

As promised, here I am with the second chapter of my **S5 rewrite**.

I know, I know, it's been literally _months_ since I first published chapter 1, and I'm truly sorry to have kept you waiting, but in a way, I'm glad I put this story off, because now, with the season over **a)** I can't spoil things for anyone as the season already aired and, most importantly, **b)** I've had some time to digest canon and decide where I want this story to go. And I have interesting things planned down the road, playing with the canon storyline(s) and throwing Mary and Matthew in the middle of them.

As for this chapter, it is a bit of a transitional one, to be honest, but I didn't want to wait too long to publish it. Hopefully, you will find it at least a bit enjoyable ;)

Please note that the rating went up, although it is only a light T and it's unlikely it will go beyond that. Also, remember that this is a canon rewrite, which means that it relies heavily on canon, reusing lines from the actual show, but with its own spin. Since we're in S5 territory, for the sake of this story, please assume that, unless I tell you otherwise, everything you know about S4 happened in this universe, with the only exception being Mary's status as a widow-I know that changes a lot, and you'll see how in time, as we dig some more into the past, starting with next chapter.

As always, many thanks go to **Darkblueyank** and **Rachel Smith Cobleigh**, for their many insights, some lively discussions and their invaluable help.

That said... Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** _Downton Abbey_ does not belong to me, I'm only have a lot of fun playing with its characters ;)

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><p>.<p>

**Of dinner parties and guests, I {Episode one, part two}**

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**Downton Abbey, February 1924**

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"So, I have your permission to accept, my Lord?" Carson asked, looking earnestly at the earl.

"You don't need it, Carson," Robert answered kindly as he accepted a new cup of coffee from the butler. "Being chairman of the war memorial committee has nothing to do with your work at the house," he continued and settled back in his desk chair in the library.

"If you are sure, my lord."

"Of course I am sure," Robert replied with a light chuckle.

Matthew, seated on the couch nearby, glanced up from the papers he'd been perusing all morning.

He had been keeping a close eye on Robert after his conversation with Mary a few days ago.

He put on a good show, but Matthew could see that being passed over in favour of his butler still stung, even though by now he had made peace with the idea.

In many ways, Matthew considered Robert's stubborn stance against even the smallest changes of their way of life to be silly and certainly quite useless—there was no stopping progress, no matter how unwilling one was to go along with it—but he had no qualms admitting that Robert had been a precious ally in taking Downton into the modern world while at the same time keeping it deeply rooted in the values of the past.

He smiled approvingly and finally set down the accounts on the latest grain sales.

"We'd be delighted, Carson," Matthew joined in the conversation as he got up to stretch his legs and ease the stiffness of his back. "You'll have to steer it through the perils of village politics. That's not an easy feat," he added with a grin as he wandered towards the French windows.

Carson straightened and looked at him seriously, but a glint of humour was in his dark eyes.

"I don't expect it will be, Mr. Crawley," he replied gravely, "but tradition dictates—" Carson turned to Robert with a slight nod, "—that it should have been Lord Grantham's place."

"Well, maybe this will be a new tradition," Robert said with a smile.

Carson gave him a respectful demi-bow, and picked up the coffee tray, then he slowly walked out of the room.

"This will be interesting," Matthew commented after the door clicked shut.

"It will take some getting used to," Robert said in a quiet tone. He turned his back and resumed working on the letter he'd been drafting for the past hour.

Matthew watched Robert write for a few silent moments, a proud smile lingering on his lips, then turned and glanced outside.

His smile widened as he spotted a lone figure sitting under the old cedar tree.

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><p>.<p>

"I thought your hay fever was bothering you this morning."

Mary put down the book she'd been reading and lifted her head to greet him. She smiled as she waited for him to come closer.

"It turns out your mother suggested the right remedy. I feel much better now," she answered as Matthew sat beside her on the bench.

He reached for her hand, entwining their fingers together. "I'm glad to hear that," he replied with a warm smile.

He settled back against the bench as he looked out over the grounds.

Mary watched him carefully, taking in his tired but contented expression.

"I take it last month's figures look good?" she asked.

Matthew turned to her, a pleased smile lighting his face. "There's room for improvement—," he started.

"Of course there is."

"But the grain sales went better than we anticipated and the rent incomes are stable, which means our strategy to spread the collecting over a longer period of time worked."

"You mean _your _strategy," Mary replied with a quirk of her lips.

"I came up with the idea, but you were the one who smoothed out all the details with the tenants," he replied softly, his eyes fixed on hers as his thumb caressed the back of her hand. "We make a good team."

"Of course we do," Mary said, giving him a small smile.

Matthew grinned, shifting a little so that his knee pressed against her thigh. He let go of her hand, and rested his arm on the back of the bench.

"Here," he said as reached for a tendril of hair that had escaped her tidy coiffure and tucked it back into place behind her ear, his fingertips brushing her skin as he did so.

Mary smiled softly, holding his gaze while the rest of the world seemed to fade away for a moment.

Eventually, Matthew moved his hand away, but Mary took it in her own and brought it on to her lap.

"Tom said he met Mr. Drewe this morning in the village," she said.

"Is Tom back, then?"

"You just missed him," Mary shrugged. "I think he went straight upstairs, I only met him because I was just then coming outside."

"What did Mr. Drewe say?" Matthew asked.

"That the newborn piglets are healthy and strong, and that we may go and look them over whenever we wish."

"Oh, that is excellent news!" He brightened. "We could go next Saturday. What do you think? I know it's a week away," he added quickly, "but I have some work to catch up on at the office during the week, so I'm afraid the pigs will have to wait. Unless, of course, you and Tom want to go before then."

Mary shook her head.

"No, Saturday will be perfect," she said and then paused, her smile faltering, because their new plans reminded her of what else would be happening on Saturday.

In truth, it had been on her mind for a few days now, and although she and Matthew had barely talked about it, she knew it had been on his mind as well. The problem, of course, wasn't that they were going to have a guest in the house. It was that this particular guest had asked her to be his lover almost as soon as they had rekindled a long forgotten friendship.

Mary pushed aside the thought of that, and debated briefly whether this was the best time to bring up an idea she'd been pondering since that morning.

"What is it?" Matthew asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

Mary glanced at him, then brushed her fingertips over his palm and shrugged.

"I was thinking... You do remember that next Saturday is my parents' wedding anniversary."

"Of course."

"Well, I know they haven't planned anything special, just dinner with the family, but I thought that we could invite some neighbours and make a small party out of it," she said lightly.

Matthew's eyebrow rose and then he smiled at her knowingly.

"This... wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that Tony Foyle is coming to stay at Downton on that same day?" he asked almost casually, the end of his sentence followed by that infuriating grin of his.

Had she not loved him as she did, Mary would have been very irritated by how perceptive he could be. Luckily for him, she did love him, a very great deal.

Even so, she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing he could read her so effortlessly, especially not when he looked so smug about it.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're implying, Matthew," she answered arching one eyebrow. "I only thought that this is my parents' thirty-fourth anniversary, and that deserves a proper celebration, don't you agree?"

"Of course, darling," Matthew replied, and Mary had to press her lips together to avoid smiling too noticeably at his teasing expression.

"That's settled, then. I'll speak with Mama later."

Matthew nodded, looking down at where their joined hands rested on the soft material of her skirt before lifting his eyes to meet hers again.

He smiled softly, something like awe in his tone, when he next spoke.

"Just imagine, Mary," he said, voice lowering to almost a whisper, "more than thirty years together and still very much in love."

She wasn't expecting that, and something softened inside her, a warm happiness filling her heart as she felt the sweet hope behind Matthew's words.

She could not help but smile tenderly at him, adoringly even, and for some reason she remembered a younger, much less experienced version of herself dreading the duty of submitting to the tedium of such a long marriage.

_If she'd only imagined that it could be like this..._

Mary squeezed Matthew's hand one last time, then shook herself and disentangled her fingers from his.

She turned to pick up the book she'd been reading before he came.

"Well, darling, if you are going turn all sappy on me," she said lightly as she rose from the bench, "we'd best go back inside."

Matthew rolled his eyes, but stood up quickly.

"Do you think Nanny would scowl at me if I steal George for a while before she puts him down for his nap?" he asked.

"I think Nanny has given up on you, Matthew, just as we all have," Mary replied, shaking her head fondly. "At any rate, Tom is probably already sprawled on the floor of the nursery playing with the children as we speak. He is just as incorrigible as you are."

Matthew shrugged, a rather pleased expression on his face.

He offered her his arm, which Mary gladly took, and they walked back to the house in contented silence.

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><p>.<p>

Dinner had been a quiet affair.

Mary's idea about hosting a dinner party for her parent's anniversary had been very well received, and Robert had proposed that Mary and Matthew, and Tom, Rose and Edith, invite some of their own friends, saying that he would like a young party for once, "instead of all those old duffers."

Matthew had smiled at this show of enthusiasm, wondering if the approaching anniversary of marriage had not made Robert suddenly feel older, but then Mary and Rose had started talking about whom they could ask, and a few names had come up.

As it always happened in these cases, some of them had ended up being discussed at length, making for a lively conversation between courses, and in the end Matthew had learned in quick succession a great deal of information about many people he'd never seen in his life and probably never would.

For instance, he had come to know that Lady Fairclough's uncle had been doing a very good job for the government in India for the past twelve years before being suddenly removed for no apparent reason when Rose's father took his place, and that Mr. Watson's mother had once behaved so perfectly beastly at a dinner party at Downton that, rather unsurprisingly, she and her family had been forever banished from the Abbey. And that, Cousin Violet had insisted, was _final_.

The discussion about the potential guests had continued after the dishes had been cleared and the ladies had left, and then the conversation had turned to the woman who had called earlier that evening and pretty much invited herself for tea on Saturday afternoon.

"Do you imagine she'll stay for dinner?" Matthew asked to Robert.

"I'm not sure, I believe she has a previous commitment for the night," Robert replied.

"I don't think I know this Lady Anstruther," Tom said with a small frown, as he put down his glass of brandy.

"I only met her briefly in London when Mary and I were first married," Matthew supplied. "But I can't say I know her. Or that I would even recognise her were she to suddenly burst into the room at this very moment."

"You must have been quite taken with your new bride, then," Robert chuckled as he breathed out a puff of smoke, "because she is quite the character."

Matthew didn't even try to suppress his smile.

"I can't deny it," he replied, as he took a sip of his drink.

Indeed, he thought to himself, during the weeks following his honeymoon Lady Anstruther could have walked up to him wearing only a plumed hat and he would have hardly noticed her, so much had he been focused on Mary and their desire for each other.

"She is very good looking, but rather silly," Robert continued. "She married a man twice her age, and was left a widow less than two years ago, as I recall."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Matthew said, but Robert waved his concern away.

"Don't be, she has taken to widowhood quite well. Or so I've heard."

Matthew shared a smile with Tom at Robert's clear meaning, and it was then that Matthew remembered something.

"Wasn't she James' previous employer?" he asked, only now realising that there had been something familiar about the name.

"I think so," Robert said slowly, a pensive frown on his brow. "Now that I think about it, she sent me a letter of reference for him. To read it, James was the best footman one could ever hope for."

"It makes one question why she let him go in the first place," Tom said. "Does he have family here, that you know of?"

"I don't think he has any family left, but surely a job at a great house like Downton would have been an improvement from the Anstruther's estate, and a rather appealing prospect for a footman," Robert replied.

"And we had just put out an advertisement in the papers that we were hiring at the time," Matthew said, then chuckled as another memory came to mind.

Both men looked at him.

"I just remembered that when Carson was considering hiring James there was another likely candidate for the position," he started explaining, amused.

"What helped James' case?" Tom asked.

"His good looks," Matthew answered with a grin. "I had the impression Carson was worried that James' looks would prove a distraction for the female staff—"

"Typical Carson," Robert commented.

"—but Mary told him he should hire James _because_ of that, and to tell the women downstairs that they could start buying their Valentines."

The three men laughed.

"Not quite an uncommon sentiment," Tom said, finishing his drink with a shake of his head. He put the empty glass on the table. "I remember the old lady I worked for in Ireland: one day, she spent the whole trip with her sister complaining about how hard it was nowadays to find a footman that was halfway decent looking. 'If we have to pay that much for male servants,' she said, 'they'd better be pretty to look at'."

Matthew snorted, as Tom's impression of the lady vaguely sounded like Cousin Violet, but it didn't escape his notice, and certainly nor Tom's, that Robert's smile was amused, yes, but much tighter than it ought to be.

"We should join the ladies," Robert said after a few moments, and they all rose to their feet.

Matthew drank what was left of his brandy and walked out of the dining room with them, but once they were in the Great Hall he quickened his pace, leaving the others behind, as he had a feeling Tom would want a moment alone with Robert.

Mary was standing by the fireplace with Rose when Matthew entered the drawing room.

She caught his gaze and smiled at him.

"Has the list for the dinner party been decided, then?" Matthew asked coming closer and touching her arm gently.

"Almost, but we're still debating over some names."

"Of course you are," Matthew replied, with a knowing smile.

"Well, I hope the name I proposed isn't up for debate," Rose said, looking at Mary with a conspiratorial grin.

"We don't know if she'll accept, Rose," Mary reminded her younger cousin.

"Whose name is that?" Matthew asked, but just then Robert and Tom entered the room and Rose made a scene of sealing her lips.

Matthew's eyebrows rose, but his curiosity was momentarily put aside when he looked on and could see that Robert and Tom seemed to be at ease.

He smiled. Everything was fine.

"Why are you smiling?" Mary asked.

He shrugged.

"Nothing in particular. It's been a good day."

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><p>.<p>

"Please don't say anything to Tom about Miss Bunting. Rose wants it to be a surprise," Mary said to Matthew as they walked down the hallway to their bedroom.

"Of course I won't, but shouldn't Rose ask Tom first? I'm not sure they have even kept in touch since last summer." Matthew frowned as they paused in front of his dressing room.

"Tom and Rose met her when they went to the school a few days ago. Rose said he seemed happy to see her," Mary replied with a shrug. "He told Rose they were friends and as far as I remember she's a quite respectable woman."

"All right, then. If your parents agree, I don't think Tom will have any problems with it."

"They do agree," Mary said. "Or at least Mama does. I heard Rose asking her while you men were huddled together smoking and drinking in the dining room."

"You make it sound so dirty," Matthew said, chuckling lightly.

Mary gave him a wicked smile and before she knew it Matthew closed the distance between them. He kissed her on the cheek, but his arm sneaked around her waist and he held her far closer than the simple gesture required. A moment later his lips found the skin of her jaw, caressed the curve of her neck, and Mary's palm rested on his chest.

Her eyes fell shut as she sighed.

Someone coughed behind them, and Mary's eyes opened again.

They both straightened, and after a moment Matthew released her.

"Molesley," Mary greeted the valet, just a hint of irritation in her voice at being interrupted.

"Lady Mary," Molesley replied, while he very studiously looked away from both her and Matthew.

Mary caught Matthew's gaze and they shared a smile—_later._

Then she turned and went to their bedroom.

Anna was already there.

"Have you been waiting long?" Mary asked.

"No, m'lady, don't worry," Anna answered.

Mary nodded, pausing in the middle of the room as Anna carefully removed the beaded necklace scarf Mary had been wearing that evening.

"Are you looking forward to the dinner party next week?" Anna asked when she moved behind Mary to put the scarf on the nearest chair.

Mary lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

"News travels fast downstairs."

"Of course. Saturday is less than a week away and Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Patmore are already discussing dishes and supplies."

They exchanged a smile.

"I am looking forward to it, obviously, especially considering it was my idea," Mary said after a moment. "But—well, I suppose there is a part of me that wishes it was already over."

She removed her gloves and gave them to Anna, then started removing her earrings.

"Is it because Lord Gillingham will be here too," Anna said more than asked, since it was clear to both of them that she already knew the answer.

Mary passed her the earrings with a sigh.

"Yes," she said, as she did not see any reason to deny it. "Matthew and I met him briefly in London a few weeks ago, so it's not like I'm worried about _meeting_ him, but it's different, having him come here. I haven't made up my mind whether I should be worried or annoyed about it."

Anna smiled at Mary's tone and nodded sympathetically as Mary sat down and took off her shoes. After Anna put them away, Mary stood and turned, allowing the maid to unzip the back of the evening gown.

A few moments passed in silence, then Anna spoke softly.

"Mr. Matthew knows your heart, my lady. He never believed that vile rumour."

Mary took off the dress and waited for Anna to bring her nightgown.

"I know that," she said quietly, her mind going back to a time when she'd feared he might, when she'd put off telling him what had happened with Tony—what Tony had _done_—in fear that her past would come back to haunt her, _them_, and Matthew would break the promise he'd made the night he'd proposed, that they'd lived their lives, and made their mistakes, and it was time to move forward together.

She shouldn't have worried, and Matthew's indignation and rage toward the man the night she'd finally told him about Tony's scandalous proposal had made her heart burst with relief and love so strong she'd had been unable to speak, almost trembling with the strength of her emotions, as she'd set on to show Matthew how much his support and his love meant to her.

She looked down at her hands now, the rings on her left hand—Matthew's rings—catching the light from the lamps. She touched them lightly.

Yes, there was no doubt that she had been very lucky, in more ways than one. She looked up and her eyes find the framed picture that rested on her vanity table.

She kept her eyes on it as she spoke.

"The truth is, Anna, the older I get, the more I feel we do these things very oddly," Mary said just a quietly. "And by 'we' I mean my kind of people. We often tie ourselves to people we don't even like, because of money or power or position, and then we feel trapped in unhappy marriages and sometimes we seek... comfort... elsewhere."

Mary wondered if that would have been her destiny had she married Richard and not Matthew.

If she had gone through with that sham of an engagement, would the thought of taking a lover be more acceptable to her than it was now? She didn't condemn women who did just that, not exactly—and how could she when she herself had taken a lover without thoughts of marriage!—but when it came to herself, it was just a ludicrous idea, one she didn't even stop to consider, because she had all that she wanted, and she didn't need anything else.

"Not you and Mr. Matthew," Anna noted with a grin.

"No, not us, but so many do, you'd imagine it's almost a normal thing," Mary replied as she sat down at her vanity table, so that Anna could work on her hair. "I was visiting the Cunards last week," she went on, "and the daughter and this guest were being so obvious about it, I wondered that her strait-laced mother didn't faint from shame right then and there!" Mary met Anna's eyes in the mirror, and they both laughed gently. "But then," Mary shrugged, "if position is all that matters, I suppose the rest is all secondary, as long as one is at least a bit discreet, which Louise Cunard was clearly not!"

She chuckled again, and Anna shook her head as she braid Mary's hair.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite as modern as you are, m'lady," she said. "I think the only reason one should marry is for love."

"Maybe you're simply not as cynical," Mary replied, remembering the conversations she and Anna used to have during the war, when Bates had seemed forever lost to the young maid, and Matthew belonged to another woman.

She and Anna had disagreed back then, Anna unswervingly sure that she would only love one man, and Mary desperately trying—quite unsuccessfully—to convince herself that she was ready to move on into a marriage of convenience that would give her the position she so craved.

When it came down to it, though, money and power had not been enough.

She knew what it was to love, and she had not been able to force herself to accept a loveless marriage, especially when it was so painfully clear that she and the man in question were more different than either of them had initially thought.

Mary looked again at the photograph she held so dear. Both she and Matthew seemed to glow from within, their eyes locked in a silent conversation.

No, things had turned out as they should be, and she was glad she'd been brave when it had mattered.

"You're all set, my lady," Anna said at last and Mary turned and smiled at her.

"Thank you, Anna. Good night."

"Good night, Lady Mary," the maid said and left the room.

Mary waited a few moments when she was alone.

She could hear Matthew's and Molesley's muffled voices in the adjacent room, and she wondered what was taking them so long.

Finally, she rose and went to the window, looking down at the moonlit grounds, as her thoughts went once again to the unwanted guest that would stay at Downton in less than a week's time.

Tony had told her mother he had business of some kind in York, and Mary had no reason to question the truth of that, but, as Matthew had pointed out just the other day, Tony could have stayed at some hotel in York.

So why was he coming to Downton?

She didn't want to dwell on that, though, so she went back to her vanity table, taking off her rings to rub cream on her hands.

Just then, Matthew emerged from his dressing room, wearing one of favourite dressing gowns, a gift from Mary.

He smiled at her and she warmed, smiling back, eyes moving appreciatively over him. She crossed to the bed and climbed under the covers as Matthew sat down on his side.

"Where's Anna?" he asked, frowning towards the bathroom.

Mary watched him seriously, then pressed her lips together to suppress a smile as she said, "I asked her to hide under the bed."

Matthew blinked at her and then laughed, his chuckle causing her to smile more widely, opening to him when he moved closer and wound his arms around her lower back.

His eyes shone with warmth and mischief.

"I really hope that's not true," he said, "because I plan to make _good_ use of this bed tonight."

He gave a demonstrative push on the mattress, making it undulate, the movement causing the wooden frame of the bed to creak faintly in protest.

They both laughed at his silliness, then they looked at each other, Matthew's lips curving up as he ran his hand down her arm, then up her side, his fingers brushing the curve of her breast.

Mary's felt the well known beat of desire pulse in her veins, but she turned her head slightly and reached for the headboard, considering it briefly before looking back at Matthew.

"Do you know, Mama mentioned this the other day," she said, a little breathlessly as his hand continued its slow exploration.

Matthew stopped every movement, as his eyebrows rose.

"She mentioned...?"

"The creaking," Mary said, her cheeks warming a little at the memory of that particular conversation.

"Oh dear," Matthew said and then hid his face in the crook of Mary's neck as she laughed gently, her hand cradling the back of his head and neck.

"Darling, as you often say, it's hardly something to be embarrassed about!" she said, though in all honesty, she'd reacted much in the same way, finding an excuse to leave the room as soon as she'd had the possibility to do so.

Matthew drew back, a lock of hair falling into his eyes as he frowned down at her.

"I'm not... embarrassed by it. I just—" He paused and blinked. "Oh dear, if your mother can hear it... so does Robert, doesn't he?"

His cheeks were flushed, but Mary could see the corner of his lips twitching upwards and they could not help it. They laughed again.

Mary's hands reached up to push his locks back into place.

"I've already told Mama that I will order a new frame, but I expect it will take some time before it's ready. Do you think maybe we should abstain until it's sorted?" she added frowning in fake concern.

"Don't even think about it," Matthew said, voice lowering and eyes flashing, as his hand quickly slid down her body to grab at her butt, giving it an eloquent squeeze.

Mary chuckled again.

"Well, do you have any clever ideas, then?" she asked.

He didn't answer.

Instead, he suddenly moved away, pushed the covers off himself and stood.

Mary watched him curiously as he walked around the bed and stopped at her side. He held out his hand, a mischievous smile curling his lips.

Mary eyed his hand carefully, then glanced up at him, intrigued by what that beautiful mind of his had come up with this time.

She smiled and very deliberately put her hand into his, rising to her feet.

She gasped when he pulled her to him in one swift movement, as his mouth descending over hers, his hands suddenly everywhere.

His arousal was quite evident against her as he coaxed her lips apart, and Mary sighed in his mouth, grabbing the lapels of his dressing gown, then wounding her arms around his shoulders as she kissed him with the same passion.

Matthew backed a few feet, taking her with him, and then... she found herself in his lap—her eyes flew open. They were in the armchair close to the door, the one Matthew usually sat in while he waited for her to be ready for the day or for bed, often reading a book as he listened to her and Anna's inconsequential chatter.

Mary grinned against his lips.

"Clever move," she conceded, drawing back to look down at him.

"See? I'm not a dull boy after all," he said, voice low and thick, and he leaned up seeking her mouth again, his hands working quickly to free her of her nightgown.

Soon, his fingers found her skin, his lips pressing urgently against her neck, then her shoulder, then down her chest, and Mary sighed heavily, eyes squeezing shut while she held his head to her body, the slick caress of his tongue warming her quickly.

_Ah yes_, Mary thought briefly as his fingers found the hem of her nightgown and started to push it up her legs, 'dull' was definitely the last word she would use to describe him.

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_To Be Continued_

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><p>.<p>

_Mmmm, yeah, that is all for Chapter 2 :P_

_As I said, a transitional chapter more than anything, but it sets things up for the next one, in which we'll deal with Tony and the infamous anniversary dinner party. I am currently working on it and I will try to stick to a three weeks posting routine, as anything more is simply not possible at the moment._

_Do let me know what you thought of this chapter! And oh, there is a very subtle reference to a certain actor's new project in one scene… did you catch it? :P_

_Till next time!_


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